Yona Cohen Life Story Three members of three generations of the Cohen family—grandmother, son, and granddaughter, Yona, Ohad, and Mila—each had different birthdays, but they all died on the same day, October 7, 2023. Yona was 73, her son Ohad 43, and his daughter Mila was a baby not yet a year old. Yona was born in Jerusalem, the second child of Sami and Rosa Levy, sister to her elder brother Jacques and her younger sister Varda. She grew up on Agrippas Street, where her parents ran the well-known Sami restaurant. Her parents worked long hours outside the home. Yona and her siblings learned to be independent at a young age. In her childhood, she told her children, she was so thin that the wind would send her flying as she walked up Agrippas Street to school. Her family later moved to Tel Aviv, where Yona attended the Alliance Française school. She was a quiet girl and a hardworking and diligent student who loved to read. As a teenage athlete - she related - she could run as fast as her classmate, the future Israeli champion and Olympic sprinter Esther Shahamorov. After graduation, she enlisted in the Nahal Corps and, along with her high-school boyfriend, David, joined the “gar'in,” (the nucleus) - the collective of soldier-pioneers who founded Be’eri. They were married after completing their military service. The young couple began their life together in Petah Tikva, where their three sons were born—Itay, Ido, and Ohad. The members of the Be’eri gar'in refused to give up on Yona and David and entreated them to return. They did, in 1982. Ohad, the youngest son, found it difficult to get used to sleeping in the children’s house, and often ran away to his parents’ home at night. Yona considered leaving, but the family was swathed in the love of their old and new friends. It was that love that tipped the scale in favor of the kibbutz. The birth of their daughter Danielle, and the addition of Ro’i, for whom the Cohens became an adopted family after he arrived at Be’eri as a member of a youth movement detachment, expanded the family. There were now five children, four boys and a girl. The home was joyful and warm. Yona showered the family with Ladino endearments and was renowned for her skill as a cook and baker. Yona loved kibbutz life and the kibbutz loved her. She was a natural of the old school in her work with children, forming strong and loving ties with her charges that endured for years into their adulthood. For ten years, she and her good friend Hezi ran Be’eri’s procurements and disbursements of food and supplies, ending her term as radiant and beloved as on the day she began. Her next position was as a kibbutz bookkeeper. She loved the work and the people she worked with, and stayed on the job even after she retired, up to her final day. Yona was goodhearted and loved life, and had a broad and jubilant smile. She knew how to make everyone around her happy. Israeli and Greek music were a special passion; she and her brother Jacques liked to go to tavernas together. But more than anything else she enjoyed reading new books, getting up in the morning for a walk or a gym workout, going to plays and films, spending time with friends, and to travel around the world. She made frequent visits to her grandchildren and children overseas—Ido’s family: Ellen, Zoë, Anuk, and Eden; and Itay’s family: Keren, Ariel, and Eleni; and to her youngest, her daughter Danielle and Amir. And, of course, there were Ohad and Sandra, who lived on the kibbutz with their children Liam, Dylan, and little Mila, whom she saw almost every day. Yona valued family togetherness and was good at fostering it. Yona’s story is the story of the kibbutz. She never left when it was under attack. “If I die,” she told her worried family, “it will be here at home and not anywhere else.” With an optimism that now seems frighteningly naïve, she added: “And what can happen to us, really?” May her memory be blessed. Prayer - Avraham Chalfi I don’t know the words from which prayer is born. All words are lost to my voice, have become a mute darkness. But my eyes still see the spark in the eyes of a child, and my eyes still see: A star of unmatched brilliance, and worried-faced mothers steering their small ones to the light. What will be with them? What will be? Listen to their breathing joy in the spring, which seems as if it will never end. I will bow before the role of God even if he has vanished from my eyes. Do no wrong to the innocent, they do not know why lightning strikes a fruit-bearing tree. Do no wrong to the innocent. They do not know why man desecrates his image. I don’t know the words from which prayer is born. All words are lost to my voice, have become a mute darkness. Back 18.01.1950 - 07.10.2023 73 years old

Mila Cohen Life Story Three members of three generations of the Cohen family—grandmother, son, and granddaughter, Yona, Ohad, and Mila—each had different birthdays, but they all died on the same day, October 7, 2023. Mila was born on December 29, 2022, bringing light and love into her home. Over nine months, everyone enjoyed the family harmony that Mila created around her. A feeling of family wholeness, until that cursed Shabbat. On Shabbat morning, Ohad, Sandra, and their three children entered their secure room. Ohad fought to defend his family when Hamas terrorists tried to break through the door. His calls for help were not answered. Sandra was severely wounded. Sons Liam and Dylan survived, but Mila and Ohad were murdered. May her memory be blessed. Prayer - Avraham Chalfi I don’t know the words from which prayer is born. All words are lost to my voice, have become a mute darkness. But my eyes still see the spark in the eyes of a child, and my eyes still see: A star of unmatched brilliance, and worried-faced mothers steering their small ones to the light. What will be with them? What will be? Listen to their breathing joy in the spring, which seems as if it will never end. I will bow before the role of God even if he has vanished from my eyes. Do no wrong to the innocent, they do not know why lightning strikes a fruit-bearing tree. Do no wrong to the innocent. Back 29.12.2022 - 07.10.2023 9 month old

Itzik Kozin Life Story Itzik was born in Israel, shortly after its statehood. Like many Holocaust survivors, his parents, Genia and Moshe, never spoke about the life they lived before they came to Israel. Itzik’s brother-in-law shared what little information he had: Moshe, Itzik’s father, was a soldier in the Polish army, and spent most of the war fighting in the Russian army. He returned to Krementz, his hometown, after the war and discovered that his wife and son had perished, together with his own eight siblings. Only one sister remained – she had come to Palestine in 1936. Genia was born in Poland and during the war was in a labor camp with her three sisters. No one remembers the name of the camp. They met in the Poking Pine City displaced persons camp in Germany, where their first child, Pnina, was born. The young family arrived in Israel in 1948 and was sent to a ma'abara (temporary dwelling for olim ) near Hadera. Moshe was drafted to the IDF and fought in the battles of Latrun. A year or so after arriving in the ma'abara, Moshe, Genia, and Pnina moved in with relatives who lived in a house known as Beit Hashomer, amidst the orange groves near Kibbutz Na'an. It was there that Itzik was born. When he grew up, Itzik began his schooling in Na'an, where he discovered basketball. When he was eight years old, his mother died of cancer, and life took a turn. His father remarried eventually, and built his home in Ganei Hadar, near Beit Hashomer. Itzik was very close to his father and sister and kept up his ties with them over the years. His fond memories of Na'an led him back to kibbutz life. Itzik was sixteen when he joined the Aluma hakhshara and arrived in Be'eri in October 1966. The hakhshara did not arrive as a group, but as individuals whom Ze'ev Wexler, an educator, gathered from groups of the Noar Haoved V'halomed youth movement, and Ahuvale, who cared for the youngsters, was a mother figure for them. The young people came and went, and finally about 30-40 remained. They had morning classes four days a week, and the rest of the time was devoted to kibbutz work. Itzik began working with the field crops, and happily for him, driving a tractor did not require a license. The young people of the hakhsarah were a close group, and did not mingle with the kibbutz members. They lived in cabins by the clinic, worked in the kibbutz, and developed their own local color and experiences. Some 18 months after arriving in Be'eri, the group enlisted – all together – to Nahal. Itzik was selected to go to train as a squad commander and joined the paratroopers’ 50th battalion. Upon discharge from the military, only 10 Aluma members returned to Be'eri, among them Itzik and his good friend Haim Zohar. When Haim got married, Itzik became a significant part of the Zohar family, a full partner to family meals, celebrations, children, and grandchildren. He had the same relationship with many of his friends’ children. For years he was part of Shiri Lingwood’s household, and her son Tal says that Itzik was like a second father, a true close friend. Ella, Itzik’s only daughter, was born in 2009. She did not grow up in his home, but he loved her and was very proud of her. Itzik was a farmer, working with the field crops, until he was about 40 years old, when he decided it was time for a change. He moved to the printing house, where he began working on one machine, gradually gaining mastery of another until he reached retirement age. Retirement offered new paths: He worked at the bike shop in Be'eri, was Erez’s driver on day trips, and worked with Avivit in the nursery. Itzik was known as a sports lover, especially basketball and athletics. At the same time, he was interested in nature and history. He was a generous man, who always brought something to his hosts. He had many friends and a regular breakfast “parliament” in the communal dining room. He was a real character, who loved to complain about the situation. He had a phenomenal memory for local nostalgia, and he could be trusted to be privy to the most recent gossip. He had a talent to recall charming anecdotes about kibbutz members, past and present. Among friends he would take the liberty to mimic local figures and make a definitive comment on each one. There were also the occasional political arguments. Itzik would tease Udi Peled about his opinions – with which he actually identified. The two of them would smoke together, have a drink, their laughter ending with a strong cough. Despite his barbed words, there was not a mean bone in him, and his stories were full of humor and love of the people of his home – Be'eri. Itzik was murdered on Saturday, 7 October 2023. He was 72 years old. May his memory be a blessing. Back 07.03.1951 - 07.10.2023 72 years old

Ayelet Godard Life Story Ayelet was a valued educator and fighter for justice, who shaped generations of people and never stopped working for the nation and the country she so loved. Ayelet was born in June, 1960, in Kfar Galim, the daughter of Rachel and Yosskeh Pereg. Yosskeh was one of the founders of Nakhbir (Be’eri’s original name). He died when Ayelet was three, and she and her sisters, Ruthie and Tami, moved with their mother to Kiryat Bialik, where they became a household of strong, determined women of action. Ayelet was an active teenager and a counselor in the local Scouts group. That was where her skills as an educator first blossomed. Her love of people, nature and hiking led her to join the army as a tour guide at Har Ha’Negev Field School. During her service, Ayelet lived in Yamit, in the final years before it was evacuated. Along with her friends, she led tours of both young and old, new recruits and General Staff officers, taking them all over the region, from Sheikh Zuweid and Bardawil Lake in the northern Sinai Desert, to Ali Muntar Hill and the “potters district” in Gaza. She was attentive to the smells, tastes, traditions and stories. She acquired a huge amount of local knowledge, and was able to add context full of humanity to the country’s spectacular mosaic. Her military service led her not only to encounter extraordinary places, but also to meet the love of her life. On one of her trips to the beach, she met Meni, Yamit’s good-looking, charismatic life guard, “the king of the beach.” They quickly became an item, “Meni-and-Ayelet,” and were married on the beach where they’d met. It was the last wedding in Yamit. The young couple wanted to live on the kibbutz, but Ayelet’s mother pressured her to acquire a vocation first. And so they moved to Tel Aviv. Meni worked as a lifeguard on Hilton Beach, and Ayelet studied special education and history at the Kibbutzim College. In 1983, their daughter Mor was born. Her name (Hebrew for ‘myrrh’) alludes to the Spice Route that Ayelet loved. After they moved back to the kibbutz, their children Gal and Bar were born. While raising her family, Ayelet was also a legendary teacher at the school, where each graduating class has a name: Savyon, Ellah and Petel were the groups she taught. She was an exceptional teacher with traditional methods, who brought nature into the classroom and took the children outside frequently. In 1997, she was appointed principal of Nofim, the elementary school. Ayelet integrated the informal education network into the school, including a petting zoo. Everything she touched thrived. Upon moving to the regional school at Ma’aleh Ha’Bsor, she stepped into the role of supervising the “Shin-shin” program members (who commit to a year of community service before they enlist in the army) in the United Kibbutz Movement. In that capacity, she guided hundreds of young people through their year of service. Over the years, Ayelet always managed to combine her great loves: family, friends, nature and good books. She went hiking whenever she could; more than her favorite pastime, it was a way of life. When the kids were grown, she set off on her big trip: she and her friend Edna travelled to India and Nepal, where she encountered the magnificent Himalaya mountains and the orphanages that operate in the region. She then informed her family that it was time for her own year of service. In 2005, Meni and Ayelet adopted their fourth child, Goni, a sensitive and captivating boy. Ayelet was an exemplary mother and a beloved grandmother. She always came up with something personal and special for each child, whether an art project, an invitation to an activity, or dough for cookie-making. Her personal attention and ability to treat every person as an equal made Ayelet a professor of human relations. She displayed the same generosity and simplicity whether hosting kindergarten children or members of the “Valley Parliament” singing troupe. Together with Meni, she kept a home that was always open, buzzing with guests, children, grandchildren, adopted children, students, family and friends—a great number of friends. Ayelet believed with all her heart in the kibbutz and its residents, and took an active part in the kibbutz life. She left her mark everywhere: on the children now grown; in the petting zoo; on the bike paths she helped plan; in the “shin-shin” communal housing she brought to Be’eri; in the cultural events she organized; in her faith that one can make a change and have an impact. She was driven by an inner fire, endless dedication, and a sense of purpose that knew no bounds. On Saturday morning, October 7, 2023, she and Meni were murdered side by side, in the home they loved, on the kibbutz that was their home. May her memory be a blessing. Back 28.06.1960 - 07.10.2023 63 years old

Hannah Siton Life Story Hannah was born in Magdiel (now Hod Hasharon), the eldest daughter of Penina and Shlomo Weissblatt, of blessed memory. Her parents, Holocaust survivors from Poland, met and married in Israel, and were blessed with the births of Danny and Pessi. Penina, her mother, was the homemaker, while Shlomo, her father, worked tirelessly in agriculture throughout his life. Their home was filled with Yiddish, observing kosher traditions, and celebrating Jewish holidays. It was a modest and pleasant home, where family members treated each other with respect and kindness. It was a happy childhood, in a loving home with a large yard where her father had built playground equipment. She completed her high-school studies at the Sharon School for Administration and Secretarial Studies in Ra'anana. For two years, she worked as a clerk at Paz-Gaz until her enlistment in the army. After serving six months in the Nahal Brigade at Kibbutz Sasa, she served in the Golani Brigade and was discharged in 1970. A year later, she married Yitzhak Siton, who was nicknamed "Zizi," and they were blessed with the births of their children, Lior, Tal, Noa, and Ran. Hannah dedicated herself to caring for her children and worked as a secretary at the Amal school and later at the Hod school for special education. Hannah was a wonderful mother, granting her children freedom and independence, while standing by them in both joyful and difficult moments. She was the glue that held the family together. When her husband, Yitzhak, began working in Africa in 2001, she was always there - close to her children and grandchildren, maintaining a strong and united family unit. Hannah was a true friend to her close friends, always with a wide smile and an enthusiast for some "action", knowing how to bring everyone out for activities and experiences. Throughout her life, Hannah sought out the richness of life in every aspect. She was surrounded by many friends, with her beloved sister Pessi by her side. They embarked on outstanding trips, scaling mountains and fulfilling dreams together, as if they had just been released from the army. China, Japan, India, Nepal. During the time spent at home, she discovered a passion for art, painting, and embroidery. She was always energetic, positive, and full of love for life. Hannah and Pessi were sisters and friends in heart and soul. The were loving and supportive of each other endlessly. They never argued, and genuinely enjoyed being together. They were inseparable. And thus, they found themselves together on the evening of Simchat Torah. Hannah, Yitzhak, and their son Tal spent the holiday with Pessi and her children on Kibbutz Be'eri. The family gathered for the Friday night meal as usual. They danced and sang together in the family dining room. The next day, on Saturday, the 7th of October, at 6:30 in the morning, with the sound of sirens, they all entered the safe room. From the safe room, Hannah continued to correspond and talk with her children and friends. The connection was severed around noon when the terrorists broke into the house and the safe room. According to testimonies, Yitzhak was shot and killed on the spot while blocking the door with his body, along with Tal, who was also injured in the knee and remained wounded and bleeding while the terrorists rounded up more people from neighboring houses. For many hours, a battle raged between a large force of terrorists and IDF and security forces. Towards the evening, tank shells were fired at the house. Out of 14 residents of the settlement, two women remained alive to tell the last moments. Hannah was a people-person; she saw others truly, full of goodwill and caring towards those around her. That's why it was so easy to share experiences with her, to consult with her, and there was no one who did not love her. Straightforward and honest, she spoke the truth even when it was not easy to hear, and above all, she was genuine, free from any pretense or evil. She always acted out of love and concern for others. From the safe room, she managed to write to her children, "Lucky we are here, and Pessi is not alone." That's who Hannah was. She was 73 at her death. May her memory be blessed Back 30.08.1950 - 07.10.2023 73 years old (Pesi Cohen's sister)

Dor Rider Life Story Back 12.11.2001 - 07.10.2023 22 years old (Temporary worker)

Galit Majzner-Carbone Life Story Galit, whose given name was Ginnette, was born in Sydney, Australia to Simon and Marinette Majzner. Following the Six-Day War, her fervent Zionist parents immigrated to Israel in 1968, settling right from the start in Kibbutz Be'eri. Galit, the eldest, and her younger brother Danny, born four years later, were both natives of Australia. Her younger sister, Kinneret, was born in Israel. Galit joined "Kitat Rimon" with the other children on the kibbutz, but her soul often drifted into a world of its own, with English books, music, and movies. She lived in her own world but created meaningful relationships with many people in the community who held similar feelings of being a part of, but not quite belonging. A “girl-woman” with a compassionate soul, she was empathetic, served as a confidante, was supportive, while acknowledging the uniqueness in each person she encountered. Galit served in the Air Force in the Ramon Air-Force Base during her military service. After the army, like many others, she went on to a year of service on Kibbutz Yitav (now a moshav) in the Jordan Valley. Following her additional year of service, she traveled to Australia. Upon her return, she settled back on Kibbutz Be'eri and joined various branches of work. At some point during those years, she pursued studies at Seminar Hakibbutzim College. In her mid-twenties, she met Alex Carbone, who came from Italy to volunteer on the kibbutz. They soon became a couple, and later, had three children together: Maia, the eldest, Tom, the middle child, and Nicole, the youngest. Only after the birth of their second child did the couple officially marry. They divorced after 20 years together. Over the years, Galit worked in various branches of the kibbutz. For many years, she worked in the printing house, and before her retirement, she returned to her great love – books - serving as the kibbutz librarian. In recent years, her four grandchildren were a continuous source of pride, and provided her with great joy. She was a loving grandmother and took tremendous pleasure in spending time with them. On Saturday, October 7, 2023, when the terrorists burst into her home, she was able to speak with Nicole until the very last moment, uttering her parting words just before she was murdered. Galit will be remembered by the members of the kibbutz and other friends and as a wise woman with a sense of humor, humility, and kindness, whose smile left its mark in the hearts of so many people. She was a true heroine. May her memory be a blessing. Back 20.9.1957 - 07.10.2023 66 years old

Tair Bira Life Story Tair, the eldest, was as an exceptionally bright child - "the genius of the family". It seemed as though she had inherited all of the talents. She was sensitive and realistic, she painted, wrote, sang, and taught herself guitar. She completed the full math matriculation exam, but chose to complete high school with a focus on the arts. She was a very gentle child who couldn’t harm a soul, the kind of person who asks for forgiveness even when it is others who need to ask forgiveness of her. A present big sister, she helped her siblings with their homework, advised and consulted with them, sought closeness, and sang karaoke on Fridays in the living room with Tahel. A sister who didn't cast a shadow, but rather spread light. It was good to walk in her light, and easy to hold it. When she finished high school, she decided to do a year of national service with Na'aleh (Youth Making Aliyah before Parents), and in this framework she worked at the Kaduri Youth Village where she was given the responsibility of helping new olim acclimate into their new home. The daughter of the new immigrant from Argentina became the bridge to Israeli culture for young men and women lacking language skills – planting new roots in them and serving as a big sister for them as well. It was a significant and transformative year - a year in which she discovered her abilities. In 2021, she enlisted in the army, serving as a non-commissioned classified weapons officer in the Tzrifin camp. She performed her duties with excellence, but upon completing her service, she longed to return home - not to a separate living unit in the kibbutz as her age entitled her to, but back home to Yahav and Tahel and her parents. Tahel at 16, and Tair at 23 were so very young at the time of their murder. They didn't have the chance to gather a long list of life experiences, to realize much of the great loves their overflowing hearts had hoped for. They stood on the brink, full of potential, and were taken away. Adolescence is characterized by the need to differentiate and distance oneself from parents in order to grow wings. It often comes with the distancing from parents and the slamming of doors. But that's not how the children of the Bira family behaved. Anyone close to the family knew of their special bond. They knew that each member of the family preferred to be with the others – family taking precedence over everything. Five people, and Poncho, their dog, who was a constant companion to the family for 12 years until he, too, was murdered — all intertwined with one another. They insisted on shared meals, shared trips, language, and an “internal” family language and humor. A family where each was for all and all for one. And one remains. Three months before the skies fell, Yasmin and Oron went to Portugal for a couples' vacation. Missing their children pushed them to act: they entered a local tattoo parlor and requested identical tattoos. When they emerged, they sent a photo to the kids: on their outstretched arms, the children could read their names engraved on their parents’ skin: Tair, Yahav, Tahel. On Friday, October 6, 2023, the family went out to dinner and a movie. Yahav's girlfriend joined them. When they parted, Yasmin and Oron went home with the two girls, while Yahav and his girlfriend headed to his apartment on the kibbutz. On Shabbat, at 10:58, the last sign of life was heard. Tair called Yahav from their safe room. Through the phone were heard screams, gunfire, silence, and then words in Arabic. Eleven days later, all of their bodies were found in the field next to the kibbutz. Rachel the poet wrote in a poem called "My Dead” about the living dead, the dead in whom death will never thrust its sharp knife. From a distance of years, she wrote: "In whom death's sharp knife has nothing left to kill. They alone are left me, they are with me still At the turn of highways, when the sun is low, They come round in silence, going where I go Ours is a true pact, a tie no time can sever. Only what I've lost is what I keep forever.” (Translation by A.Z. Foreman) Yahav has been left with an overwhelming legacy. May Tair’s memory be blessed. Back 28.12.2000 - 07.10.2023 22 years old

Sylvia Ohayon Life Story Sylvia was the daughter of the late Esther and Makhlouf. She was born in Dimona on August 13, 1954, the eighth of nine children. Georgette, Devorah, Danny, David, Nurit, Shimon, and Ayala were her older siblings, and Dahlia – her younger sister. The siblings were close in age and close with each other. Nurit was Ayala, Sylvia, and Dahlia's bodyguard. They called themselves the Twin Trio, a nickname they carried into adulthood. The kids would walk to school every day from their home on Masada Street to Afikim School, carrying “chocolate spread” sandwiches that their mother had prepared. They only split up when they had to go to their classes. The afternoons were spent out on the street, playing with friends. And there was lots of horsing around and happiness at home – the most memorable was jumping on a pile of mattresses with one of them tucked in underneath. Sylvia’s father wanted to be “as Israeli as can be.” He spoke neither French nor Moroccan with his children – only Hebrew. Their mother, who always had trouble with Hebrew, spoke to the kids in a mixture of the three languages. Despite the many hardships her parents faced, Sylvia did not grow up with a sense of deprivation. She saw her seemingly small world as vast and rich. Every night, in that small-vast world, she’d hear her father tell her mother about the things he’d learned that day from reading a book or the paper. Makhlouf believed in education and thought that his children would receive the finest education on a kibbutz, so, over the years, each child went to live in a different kibbutz. When she was 13, it was Sylvia’s turn to move out. She couldn’t find her place in the local middle school and moved to Be'eri, where she quickly became part of the place that seemed like paradise to her. She became part of the family of the late Mordechai and Meira Naveh (Meira died in 2000, Mordechai was murdered on October 7, 2023). Throughout this time, she maintained strong ties with her sisters. They constantly corresponded, each from the kibbutz where she lived, and arranged to meet at home in Dimona on weekends and holidays. Sylvia served in the IDF doing communication and encryption work. She made many new friends and maintained contact with them for years. Her friends called her Sulti because one day an announcement came over the PA system “Sultana Ohayon, come to….” Sylvia said, “Who would name their daughter Sultana?” when she remembered that Sultana was indeed her middle name – after her grandmother. After her discharge, Sylvia became part of the Be'eri community and workforce. She worked in the infants’ homes, the cowshed, garage, communal dining room, and most recently in construction and services. She learned the details of every place, became a professional in whatever she did, and did it with all her heart. That very special heart. When she worked in the office, she took bookkeeping classes. During her time in the kitchen, she discovered her interest in the culinary arts and studied pastry making, becoming an amazing cook and baker. She used the knowledge she gained from her studies at Camera Obscura to help kibbutz film productions. She had the gift of organization and production and contributed these to the community. She also painted and made jewelry. Sylvia was a sportswoman. She loved swimming and bike riding. She was mindful of good nutrition, and in recent years devoted more and more time to yoga. Yoga gave her a new, illuminated perceptive on the world, and, wanting to share it with others, she began training to become a yoga teacher. She never got to complete the course. In over four decades of life in Be'eri, Sylvia took only one year off. The kibbutz was her home, and she loved it. Kibbutz life was good for her, and she returned the good she received. But the lessons of her childhood were always with her. She insisted that the children learn that cheese and chocolate, that are “free” and unlimited, were a product of labor. Sylvia had a great talent for connecting to people and excelled at maintaining these connections. She was a warm and generous hostess, and often hosted her family – fifteen nieces and nephews and their eighteen children. Each one had time alone with her in the animal-petting corner on the kibbutz and in the annual celebration of the flowering of the desert – the red carpets of poppies and anemones. Each of them also got a ride on her electric scooter. Her nieces and nephews all treasure the photos they have of their fun days in Be'eri. She kept up a correspondence with all of them, and even before she herself became a mother – they would turn to her for advice. Eden, her daughter, was the love of her life. Eden was born in 1997, and Sylvia raised her practically alone, supported by the kibbutz. She dealt with Eden’s special difficulties without ever giving up. It was important to her that Eden have a relationship with her father and his new family, and to have her own warm relationship with Eden’s younger siblings. She knew, first hand, the power of strong ties. She taught her daughter everything – everything she knew and everything she believed. She was always there for Eden, and Eden was the last person with whom Sylvia spoke. On Saturday, October 7, when the siren sounded, Sylvia locked herself in her safe room, as did all the members of Be'eri. She was on the phone with her daughter and with her own sisters. Around 8:30 am, she said that she heard shots and people speaking Arabic. At 10:30 she told Eden, “Everything’s OK.” Then – the sound of a huge explosion, and the line went dead. It took over a week of uncertainty until Eden and the family were notified of Sylvia’s death. Sylvia smiled a lot. She overcame difficulties with kind words and laughter. She saw the good and humorous side of every situation. She was exceptionally generous, kind and welcoming. She loved life and enjoyed it. She will be remembered as she was – with a huge smile on her face. It was Eden’s request that she be buried in Dimona, alongside her parents. May her memory be a blessing. Back 13.08.1964 - 07.10.2023 59 years old

Marina Losev Life Story Marina was born in Zaporizhzhia in 1962 and raised by a single mother, Ludmila, who worked to support her children as a manufacturing engineer in an aircraft engine factory. Alongside her second husband, Nikolai Nikitenko, Ludmila built a happy family, Nikolai adopting Marina as his daughter and supporting her in every way. The two also provided Marina with a brother – Michael. Marina attended a regular school and was a good child and an outstanding student. She loved history and literature and studied music and piano for seven years. Besides the regular Russian holidays, Ludmila and Nikolai's home observed both Ludmila's Jewish holidays and Nikolai's Christian ones. Marina would say that her childhood was simple and happy in a family of industrial workers with organized work, a splendid education system, and a sense of calm and security. At university, Marina studied history and participated in archaeological excavations at ancient sites. She worked in research at the university where she studied and taught history at the local high school. She met her husband Igor when still very young. Two years her junior, Igor was born on the banks of the Dnieper River, in the city of Zaporizhzhia – part of the former Soviet Union, now Ukraine. He was the son of Victor and Antonina, and a younger brother to Tatiana; he had severed ties with his father at a young age – his mother raising both children and working as a department manager in a large factory. One day, after his release from the Soviet Navy but still in love with the sea and boats, Igor was paddling in a kayak on the river, when from afar, in a resort village, he saw a young woman in a red swimsuit, a bright spot on the horizon. He paddled towards her and asked, "Can you show me the way to the dining room?" Thus began the encounter with the woman who would one day become his wife, Marina. Marina and Igor married in April 1988 in a small civil ceremony. Their only daughter Katya was born in January 1989. In the early 1990s, they experienced the turbulent and unstable days of the dissolution of the Soviet Union. When they heard about the Jewish Agency’s "First Home in the Homeland" program, they felt a desire to come and live in a kibbutz, in a secular, egalitarian, cooperative, and socialist society – an ideology they continued to believe in, even after the collapse of the Soviet Union. In October 1994, Marina and Igor emigrated to Israel with their five-year-old daughter Katya, leaving their families behind. They landed by night and were taken directly to a caravan waiting for them in Be'eri. Together, Marina and Igor faced the separation from their homeland and the challenges of absorption in Israel and in the kibbutz. Besides studying Hebrew in the ulpan, they had to adapt to work on the collective farm. Marina worked for many years in the printing house, mainly in the greeting card department, and later moved to accounting management. She replaced Tzipi Zorea in managing the members' personal budgets. Marina loved her work and the team she worked with. She knew everyone: the old members and the newest immigrants. She also volunteered for ten years in a second-hand store with Racheli Suiss. Her leisure hours were dedicated to reading. She loved British detective novels – Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie – reading them all in Russian. Marina also loved nature. She nurtured plants in her new home and devoted herself to her household cats and many street cats. She established feeding stations and served as a clinic cum veterinarian for injured or sick cats. When they first arrived in the kibbutz, Igor worked at the dish-washing station in the dining room and then moved on to the printing house alongside Tzachi Gad. Later, he joined the digital department and other departments. In 2021, he was appointed as the safety supervisor in the print shop and maintained daily contact with all print shop departments regarding their personnel. In recent years, he developed a great curiosity, if not obsession, for exploring Russian digital archives that had been opened to the public. He researched his family's origins and compiled a large family tree with roots dating back to the early 19th century. Katya, their daughter, recalls: "Dad's computer was salvaged from the fire along with its entire archive of lives lived." In 2018, Marina and Igor moved to their new home in the Kerem neighborhood. It was a cozy and orderly home, filled with Russian books and Katya's childhood and teenage collections. Igor planted fruit trees – mangoes and citrus. He measured the fruit yield each year and meticulously monitored the data. Katya recalls: "Mom was a very devoted mother. Very caring, sometimes overly so. I could share personal things with her. At every stage of my life, she helped me, and I could rely on her. She was friendly woman with a radiant face. No one escaped her discreet and devoted care. Everyone knew they could rely on her." Anyone who knew Marina and met her would agree with Katya. Marina was a woman with eyes that shone, who only wanted to empower and help. In every role she took on, she radiated grace, out of her desire to respect every person, and from her endless love and dedication to the community. "Dad was a refined and quiet man. He didn't like to be at the center of attention, but in the print shop, he made good friends throughout his years of work. He loved life on the kibbutz, yet he missed Russian culture. As a father, he was very sensitive and emotional, and it was easy to catch him with a tear in his eye." He and Katya loved to watch Russian-dubbed cartoons together and assemble furniture. He was the handy man who knew how to fix and install anything and immediately responded to any call for help from Katya. She recounts that her parents made sure to teach her to read and write in Russian. They did it gracefully and without pressure, arousing her interest in the language and gently exposing her, through music and stories, to the Russian classics. They instilled in her the value of education so that when the time came, she would have the independent choice to pursue what she loves and to fulfill herself. In 2021, their granddaughter Kira was born, the daughter of Katya and Dima. Kira became the center of their world, and Katya occasionally had to remind them that she also exists, so they wouldn't forget her… Ten days before the fateful Shabbat, they returned from a lovely vacation in St. Petersburg and brought Kira many Russian children's books that survived the fire. "It's a shame we didn't postpone this vacation until Sukkot," Katya said to herself many times since. On the 7th of October, Katya was in touch with her parents until 10:00 in the morning. Marina managed to whisper on the phone that the terrorists were in the house. Katya waited and hoped they had only been injured. Two days later, the realization fell upon her, receiving confirmation a week later, that her parents were no longer among the living. "We were a small family and now we're even smaller. Now the kibbutz is my family, and Dima's, and Kira's. Nobody will ever understand me anywhere else." Marina and Igor lived together for 35 years, almost 30 of which were in Be'eri. Their daughter Katya, her husband Dima, their granddaughter Kira, and the entire community of Be'eri, along with the kibbutz's cats and the mango and citrus trees, will continue to remember their love and their gentle touch. May their memory be blessed. Back 06.12.1962 - 07.10.2023 61 years old

Alon Even Life Story Alon was born and raised in Be’eri, Alon was a curious, bright, mature boy, who did not shy away from taking on responsibilities. He was always in the company of friends, unfailingly willing to lend a hand, just like his parents. Alon was a pure, loving soul who was also dearly beloved. He recently took it upon himself to head the bar mitzvah team responsible for organizing the events of the most significant year in the lives of the Bnei Be'eri Junior High students. When he reached the appropriate age, he started frequenting the gym and lifting weights. He grew taller quickly, yet even after turning into a strong young man, he remained gentle, polite, and sensitive, qualities he shared with his parents. This year, he got his ATV license, and following his dad's lead, went on off-road trips with his buggy. The Even household was warm, welcoming, and hospitable. Chen took care of the kids; they were his pride and joy. Rinat took care of everyone, always available, always empathic. Their house was a source of love and support for the entire kibbutz. They were humble and constantly surrounded by friends. They loved everyone and everyone loved them back. Tomer and Nir, an entire kibbutz is standing with you. Forever. Alon was 16 when he died. May his memory be blessed. Back 28.03.2007 - 07.10.2023 16 years old

Tal Bira Life Story Tal was born on December 27, 1961 in Moshav Avigdor near Kiryat Malachi, the second child of Avigdor and Rivka. His father worked as a farmer in the moshav, and his mother nurtured the family, creating a space of warmth, a bosom of joy and calm for the children - Batia, Tal and Amit. The fields, the spaces and the sense of family cohesion gave Tal his roots. When Tal was five years old, the parents decided to make their home in Be’eri, where Rivka had spent her early years as a ‘yaldat-hutz’ (a child raised on the kibbutz though her parents did not live there). His younger brother Oron was born there. The transition to the kibbutz was not easy. The sensitive child suddenly found himself in the noisy company of other children. He had difficulty adjusting to the shared accommodation, and stood on the sidelines in his age group, which was named ‘Dagan’. Little by little, he managed to carve out a place for himself where he could express his talents. With his golden hands, which he inherited from his father, he fixed and operated various things. Thanks to his natural playfulness, he stood out as an actor in plays. Tal looked forward to family gatherings on Saturdays, the feeling of togetherness that brought moments of happiness and gave him a renewed sense of the anchor that had become weaker. He especially loved the family's Shabbat treks, going out to the areas around the kibbutz with a pique blanket and food in backpacks. He dedicated himself to taking care of the family's wolfhounds. After his military service in the Artillery Corps, Tal left the kibbutz for a year, and worked at a fledgling kibbutz, Retamim. He was welcomed with open arms as a kibbutznik with experience in a variety of jobs and with the same golden hands that were mentioned earlier. It was a happy and meaningful time, but when it ended, Tal preferred to return to Be’eri. For him, the kibbutz was the place that the poet Zelda described so well: "The house is a partner / in the revelry of the sky / the sun throws inside / its burning gold/, and the night/ overwhelms it with starry darkness." Tal was a kibbutznik who saw work as a sacred value. He worked in various branches of the kibbutz, including gardening and the garage. Thus, he had the opportunity to get to know the kibbutz from different angles. He had sharp criticism, along with a great love that he was able to express in the films he created. In addition to his work, Tal had many hobbies. He was a true autodidact. Thus, his hobbies went beyond the limits of the concept of a hobby and became professional. He participated in film studies at Sha’ar HaNegev, and became the unofficial photographer of the family and the kibbutz. He was there, behind the camera, at cultural events, bar mitzvah videos, family gatherings, and he added his special touch. He jealously guarded the collection of films he made about the kibbutz and was going to leave them to his nieces and nephews. Tal also found an interest in clocks - ancient and rare clocks that were made by a craftsman’s hands, with complicated mechanisms, which required his expertise to operate them. He studied the mechanics of each watch, studied its history, and knew where to find the tiny parts required to repair it. He participated in conferences that dealt with the field, and on his last trip abroad he was the guest of several Swiss watchmakers. He returned from that trip motivated and happy, with plans to expand his collection. Another of Tal’s passions was cooking. For him, cooking became a work of art, done after considering the ingredients of the dish and also the cultural background in which it was created. No wonder he specialized in cakes and desserts, a field that requires the knowledge and precision of a scientist, along with a rich imagination. Tal created his own culinary language. At every family gathering he knew how to surprise with a new dish or pastry. The love for cooking introduced Tal to Persian cuisine and opened a new world to him - the world of Persian culture. As usual, he began to study the subject comprehensively, and researched the origins of the culture and its customs. He read books written by Iranian authors and watched films by Iranian directors. He liked to set a table with a variety of Persian delicacies and became a member of Facebook communities of Iranian expatriates. The connection he felt was strong, so much so that he requested in his will that his funeral ceremony be conducted by a rabbi of Persian origin. Tal surrounded himself with an extended family and was its warm heart, a heart always open for each of its members. He had a special bond with his brothers and sister, and also with his nephews and nieces. They were a source of pride for him, and he knew how to be a supportive place of love for them. With extraordinary sensitivity, he knew how to set aside time and attention for everyone. He knew how to express his love through special gifts he created and in pampering and surprising breakfast meals on Shabbat, those little things that create a warm and cohesive human experience. Tal was a proud human being, with an abundant soul. Two weeks before his death, on the eve of Yom Kippur, Tal wrote on Facebook: “May we know how to hurt less throughout the year, to be more sensitive and more attentive and respectful of others. Even if it doesn't always match our way.” Tal was murdered on October 7, 2023, in the terrorist attack against Be’eri and the towns and villages around the Gaza Strip. His brother Oron and his family were also murdered that Saturday. May his memory and the memory of the entire family be blessed. Back 27.12.1961 - 07.10.2023 62 years old